


Someday when the rain falls down, it'll wash away this lonely town

by Stolperzunge



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: (really only mentioned) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Loneliness, M/M, Musicians, Sex, those are extremely strange tags but they do all apply so...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stolperzunge/pseuds/Stolperzunge
Summary: Eugene’s eyes darted to the windows, but they showed him nothing more than the reflection of his own apartment, the night too dark to see anything outside. Made him think, that Snafu and him were the only ones currently existing in this world. The only hint of a world beyond his apartment was the slight pattering of the rain, he could still hear over the sound of the radio. Another Soul singer, pouring his heart out, emphasizing the atmosphere between them.___While New Orleans gets stricken by a heavy storm, two lonely souls find comfort in each other.Snafu is a well-known street musician and when he plays a song for Eugene, the other man can't help himself but take him back home with him, filling his little apartment with some new found life.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21
Collections: Sledgefu Week 2020





	Someday when the rain falls down, it'll wash away this lonely town

**Author's Note:**

> Sledgefu Week Day 4: Rain (AU)
> 
> This story didn't sit in my drafts for months, for once. Sometime last week, I think, I was struck with the idea of Street Musician Snafu and Church Boy Eugene. I don't know, I thought it was kinda sweet, but also held some potential to be a little deeper. I don't know if I'm super happy with the result. I might edit this. I had both their backstories laid out, but I wanted this to be a little "shorter" and most importantly not overly angsty, but a little romantic ;^)
> 
> Of course this is based on the TV show and not on the real people. English isn’t my first language.
> 
> Enjoy!

Eugene made his way over the wet cobblestone in a fast paste, collar of his coat turned up, his hand clutching over the highest button, to avoid as much of the rain as possible. 

When he had left the school building half an hour ago, it had looked horrible outside. They heard the warnings of the approaching storm over the radio days before it happened. The fire department was prepared, the people were informed, but the storm was much stronger than anyone had anticipated. The streets were covered in branches and trash, windows were broken, cars crushed by trees, streetlights lay on the sidewalk.

They had spent the whole afternoon with the students, who hadn’t been picked up by their parents in time before the police had shut the whole town down, inside the gym.

It hadn’t been that bad. They played games, read books, even arranged a little nap time. It was almost cozy, but Eugene was still glad when the principal told them, that the lockdown was over and the parents would arrive soon to pick up their kids. It was around 6pm by then.

Now he finally made it to the train station, seeking shelter under the roof together with a bunch of other people who looked just as exhausted as he felt. Women in suit dresses and men with briefcases. Employees like himself who either didn't make it home before the lockdown or who weren't allowed to leave. His train was about to arrive… or so they were told, but by the people who were sitting on the floor in their expensive clothing Eugene could tell, that they had been waiting for quite some time now and would most likely continue to do so.

He shook his head, trying to get some of the rain off of his hair. The water had dripped down his neck, inside his collar, running along his spine which made him shiver. He turned around, searching for a place where he could sit down himself, when he noticed it: the sound of an acoustic guitar and a raspy voice singing lowly, accompanied by the dripping of rain on the roof above their heads, the rattle of an arriving train. He sat there like every other evening when Eugene was waiting for his train back home, as if the bad weather couldn’t bother him. 

Everybody in New Orleans knew Snafu, knew his music around town. They even covered his story in the newspaper. One of the smaller ones, but still. Not that there was much to say about him, since he was kind of a myth and they explicitly stated that he wouldn’t answer any of the questions a reporter had asked him.

They had written about his music instead. He usually played something self composed, but from time to time he played a popular song from the radio, or an old anthem. They wrote about the places one might find him at. In front of the townhall, the shopping arcade, under the roof of some bakeries and train stations during bad weather. They said he named his guitar Lilette, that was the only thing Eugene had never heard about. Overall the short article was pretty nice, sweet even. They called him a local treasure. 

The priest in Eugene’s church had read it to them after the mass. He always preached about helping the unfortunate and giving back to the community. Eugene tried to do that. He helped in soup kitchens during Thanksgiving and Christmas, when many other people were occupied with their family-lives, which Eugene could understand, but he didn’t have a family, so he might as well do something useful, helpful with his time and able hands. 

After this country got into several conflicts the streets and soup kitchens were flooded with people like Snafu. Homeless men who didn’t seem to fit in anymore, who tried to get by by themselves. Many _not_ in the possession of a guitar, or anything really. Many wounded, body and mind. Eugene never saw Snafu at one of those food distributions, or the dinners his church hosted for the veterans. He was pretty certain, that Snafu had served, but he didn't know for sure. Not much about Snafu was known for sure, but there were words said about him, far less flattering than those in the article. 

They claimed, that he spoke to himself whenever he wasn’t playing his instrument. He allegedly walked around muttering as if he was talking to another person. Some called it scary, some just called him insane. 

Eugene thought neither of those things. As sad as it may seem, he could actually relate to that. He lived alone, for years now. No family, only a few friends, he didn't see that often. He caught himself speaking to himself when he was alone in his flat quite often recently. And not just “oh I have to take out the trash”, “gotta remember this” or stuff like that. No, he had full on conversations with himself. Just yesterday he was debating if he should buy those pickled cherries or not, and not only inside his head, he was talking out loud, quietly, but outside his head, until an old lady had shot him a disapproving glance and he realized what he had been doing. He felt some of that shame he had experienced return, making his cheeks flush and the nape of his neck feel hot.

Whatever was said about Snafu, he attracted quite a crowd that evening. People wanted to hear something nice, after they all had went to some kind of trouble that day, but at least the majority of them had spent it inside. Snafu and other who shared his fate, had been outside on their own during that scary storm. Eugene was somewhat relieved seeing him safe and sound. He always looked out for him, when he arrived at the station after work, taking in his music while he waited for his train, but strangely enough, he never had left him any money. 

His mother had never allowed him near beggars or streets artists. He remembered the time he got a dollar from his father to buy himself some ice cream. He did just that, but had decided to give the rest of the money to a man in a costume who pretend to be a stature, who only moved when someone threw some money inside the hat he was holding. The man had bent down and had petted little Eugene on his head, making the kid beam up at him. The scream his mother had let loose when she saw her son being touched by that strange man still echoed through his mind.

Eugene screwed his eyes shut, as if to blink away the memory of his childhood. He gritted his teeth and marched towards the fence where Snafu was sitting. He scrambled through the other people to be closer to the music, until he made it to the very front. From this close he could hear how Snafu's voice was vibrating, saw him pulling the strings with his calloused fingers, damaged from playing day after day for several hours. It looked effortlessly with the skill Snafu did it. His voice wasn’t extremely smooth or trained in any way, it broke at the end of some lines and during the higher notes. It just sounded very raw, personal, perfect for something slow, heartfelt. Eugene could listen to him for hours. 

As he played the last few chords, some people clapped, throwing coins into his guitar case. Before he even noticed, Eugene had snaked his hand into his pants pocket, drawed out his wallet, and emptied his whole change into his palm. He crouched and placed it into the musicians case. When he straightened up again, Snafu was looking at him, right into his eyes.

Eugene swallowed hard, it felt like the other one was staring straight through his skin and bones into the core of his body, his mind, his soul. Those strange huge eyes, pale under his heavy eyelids. 

Snafu's eyes crinkled as Eugene was staring into them.

“For that much money you're allowed to make a wish”, he said in his lazy way to talk. A true Louisianian man, no doubt about it. Eugene didn't hear him talk to people that often, sometimes he mumbled a small “semper fi” when someone dropped a bill into his case, or he announced the name of a song, stating that he wrote it himself, but that was about it. He wasn’t one to ask for money after he played his songs.

“Uhm…” Eugene made, still a little mesmerized with the other man's almost intrusive stare, the smirk he made out under his thick beard, as dark and curly as his hair. Eugene's mother might have called it unruly on a nice day, indecent on a not so nice one. It sure was different from Eugene's short clipped hair in the back and his neat side part he didn't get rid off no matter how old he turned, but it was just as well looked after. 

“I don't know that one”, Snafu drawled. “Can you hum it for me, cher?”

Eugene noticed how he began to sweat under his coat, despite the rain, nothing new in the humid climate of this city, but he didn't even attempt to blame it on the weather. 

“I- I don't have a wish…”, he muttered, almost regretting he got himself into this situation by dumping all his change into the musicians case. He wasn't as shy as he used to be, but there were certain kinds of people, certain kinds of personalities who just made him want to crawl into himself, because they shone like a bright light and he felt so incredibly dim compared to them. Like a little firefly next to a headlight.

Snafu clicked his tongue, letting his gaze slide from Eugene's face over the length of his body. Eugene clutched his wallet with both his hands in front of his middle, in an attempt to shield at least some small part of himself from those eyes, in an attempt to contain his balance.

“I pick one for you, then”, Snafu said and his eyes flicked back to Eugene's as he began to play the first few notes. The melody Snafu played, stayed pretty consistent. Low-key, slow, definitely on the country spectrum, almost a bit melancholic. 

Eugene felt his face heat up and ducked his head into the semi-safety of his upturned collar.

“That's the kinda song I remind you of?”, he asked, intentionally barely audible over the sound of the guitar.

Snafu stopped playing, shrugging. “I don't know”, he said. “It's what came to my mind lookin' at you. Cicadas, cornfields, poppies...”

Poppies… There was a big field of poppies behind his parents house. When the atmosphere inside those walls became too unbearable, Eugene had sneaked out through the backdoor to lay in the field, the stars above him, the noises of mother nature around him, calming him down.

He asked himself if Snafu managed to sleep outside. Or if he retreated to some kind of shelter during the night. New Orleans was a whole world away from the peaceful field of poppies behind his parents house.

“So for you my essence is being a country boy?”, Eugene asked.

Snafu granted him with a smile, the corners of his lips curling kinda sweetly. He looked different like that. Younger, innocent, if it wasn't for the glint in his eyes, that betrayed him, made him look cheeky, not any less appealing, though. 

“Pretty much… Your accent stays out. Your hair, red like poppies. Looks nice.”

Eugene stared at him for a couple of seconds, containing himself to not run a hand through his damp hair. He never got many compliments for it. An aunt had called it _wicked_ once and when the girls in his class had rated the boys he usually made it to one of the last positions, because his hair looked “ridiculous”, apparently. So hearing someone say that it stood out in a good way made him somewhat bashful.

“Well, thanks”, he said quietly, shoving his wallet back into his pocket to have an excuse to do something with his hands. He looked around and noticed that the little crowd around Snafu had dispersed. No wonder when he was distracting him from playing. Eugene felt a little bad for making Snafu’s audience wander off.

“Maybe I turn it into something proper”, he heard Snafu say and looked back down at him. “And play it for you in the evenings while you wait for that train of yours.”

Eugene gaped a little at him. Snafu knew him. He recognized him. 

“Well, thanks”, he almost croaked, throat dry.

Snafu chuckled lowly. “Think your record is broken, country boy.” 

By the way they both talked Eugene was suddenly glad, that no one paid them any attention. One thing he liked the most about his life in New Orleans was, that people usually looked another way when something unusual was going on, whereas in Mobile anything that didn’t perfectly assimilate would get found, if necessary with a big looking glass and weeded out. He did have a certain kind of freedom here, but from time to time, he was still as shy as a deer, hopping its way back into the safety of the dark thicket of the woods, to not get caught doing anything weird, anything _queer_.

“You don't have something to drink with ya, do you?”, Snafu suddenly asked. 

It was stupid, probably unfair, but the rumors about Snafu resurfaced to Eugene's mind. The not so nice ones. It was the typical “why are you giving him any money? He's going to spend it on alcohol anyway”-talk Eugene overheard at the train station from time to time. 

Alcohol abuse wasn't unusual for people who were living in the streets, as a cause or as an result. Wasn't unusual for veterans either. It was a bad coping mechanism but an affordable one and sometimes the last or only thing one could turn to. Eugene knew their struggles because of the work he did at his church community. But he didn't saw any of that in Snafu. He strongly believed that those rumors weren't more than ignorance.

“I think I have some coffee left…”, he said and started to rummage through his satchel. 

“You're a teacher or something?” Snafu tilted his head towards his satchel. The ultimate giveaway for his profession.

“Yeah, Elementary School”, Eugene answered and pulled his Thermos with the rest of his coffee out, he didn't finish during the day. 

“Weren't clever enough for something higher?” Snafu grinned, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, giving Eugene not the slightest chance to really get annoyed at him, when he looked like that.

“Hey”, Eugene scoffed nonetheless. “They're cute. Middle Schoolers are mean, High School kids are precocious and for college… I wasn't clever enough.” 

He smiled at Snafu and handed him the flask. As the other one took it from him their fingers brushed briefly. Eugene froze for a second. How long had it been since someone had touched him? More than a pat on the back or the shoulder from one of his colleagues? And then again this was nothing more than a brush, an unintended one on top of that. Eugene swallowed, hoping to get rid off the goosebumps that were creeping up his whole right side.

“It's still warm!”, Snafu beamed up at him, seemingly unaffected by the touch. Eugene managed a small smile. He really should think about what he took for granted. Snafu unscrewed the cap and inhaled the steam of lukewarm coffee, furrowing his brows in pleasure. 

“Thanks!”, he said, pouring himself a cup and emptying it right away.

Eugene’s eyes softened as they glided over Snafu, his thick woolen jumper and the corduroy jacket on top shrouded most of his body. He couldn’t tell if Snafu was particular skinny under it. His jaw and cheekbones stood out from what he could make out under his beard, especially when he talked but something told Eugene that he was simply build that way. He had the advantage of a rather pretty face, his sharp jawline, those thick curls and mesmerizing eyes made for an incredibly handsome man. 

Eugene swallowed, grateful that Snafu was still occupied with drinking his coffee. He let his gaze fall to the ground and it landed on Snafu’s boots. They were in a bad state, the leather was torn, holey even. The bottom end of his pants legs were several shades darker than the rest of them. Before he could further think about it, he crouched next to Snafu.

The other man leaned a stretch away, startled by the sudden movement, looking at him warily.

“Your feet are soaking wet”, Eugene stated.

Snafu snorted and screwed the flask shut again. “Don’t you worry about my feet.”

He kept staring at Snafu as an announcement echoed through the speakers above them. Eugene’s train would arrive any minute. Another shiver ran along Eugene’s spine but this time the rain wasn’t to blame for it, even though it was still dripping onto the roof above them. It was a strange kind of anticipation which made Eugene’s whole body go tense.

“Come with me”, he said.

Snafu eyes found his, wide and irritated.

“You can take a shower back at my place, get yourself dry… I can cook us something.”

He didn’t exactly know why he even made that offer. All he knew was, that he was incredibly lonely. Sure he had a classroom full of children for eight hours a day, but being a teacher meant leaving most of his personality or opinions behind him as soon as he stepped foot inside the building. His colleagues were nice but there wasn’t all that much he could talk with them about. Most of them were women with children or even grandchildren. And after those hours he sat alone at his desk, correcting homeworks or preparing the next day. The radio his only companion, the host who read out the news about politics which inflicted conflict and hate, interrupted by musicians who sang about freedom, peace and love. 

Eugene tried to focus on the words in those songs, tried to remind himself that people who didn’t judge existed, people who believed in the same rights for everybody and who didn’t believe in the current politics, but it was hard. Sometimes he felt like he was the only person who felt this way. And now this strange man was by his side, with his cheeky looks, who complimented him, who made up a melody and played it _for him_ and he felt like he wasn’t so alone anymore.

Under no circumstances would he leave Snafu behind this evening with his clothes drenched and the storm still going.

Snafu’s face turned into an impish grin as he studied his face. “You’re completely crazy, boy.”

***

“You live in a strange neighborhood…”, Snafu commented as they made their way to the small house Eugene ranted his room at. The rain had lessened, but the sky was still pitch-black and somewhere in the distance thunder was rolling.

Eugene wasn't surprised that Snafu knew the kind of area he lived in. It was well known and he got told this a lot. That it was _strange_. If it got broad up in front of his colleagues he always lied and said that he didn't know about the reputation the neighborhood hold, when he had first moved there, that he stayed because of the cheap rent or that he just wasn't home that much and didn't care. 

But he did care and he knew about the kind of people who lived there. People like him, only that he tried to hide this side of him in a 'professional setting'. Something told him, that he didn't have to pretend in front of Snafu, cause there was yet another sort of rumor about him. That he particularly enjoyed the presence of other men… But Eugene still wanted to know what he was trying to say, so he asked: “What do you mean?”

Snafu shot him a long, sideway glance. “I don't know… The people who live here are a little…”

“Queer?”, Eugene asked as he stopped walking. 

Snafu turned around to him, staring back. 

Eugene was a bit shocked by his own boldness, but before he could start to worry, something between them unraveled and twisted together again, like several notes of a song, forming some kind of bond, a melody of mutual understanding as it tied them both together. 

“That's where I live”, Eugene said, breaking the silence, pointing up to one of the windows. 

Only then did Snafu look away, following his pointing finger with his eyes.

“I can stay outside, if you want. Maybe you can lend me a blanket, or-”, He began to rumble, until Eugene cut him off.

“Oh hush you! You're coming inside with me”, he said a bit exasperated. 

Snafu shifted his seabag on his shoulder, guitar case in his other hand. Eugene wanted to help him carry it, but he wouldn't have let him. 

“Am I your new charity project, or what?”

Eugene furrowed his brows. “What?”, he said, confusion very audible in his voice and then he added a firm: “No. Why would you say that?”

Snafu shrugged. “You're a teacher. And a Christian.”

“Yes…?” Even though Snafu hadn't pronounced either of those statements as questions, Eugene still felt the need to answer, slightly irritated.

“I know you're doing this giving back to the community thing”, he continued. “Might as well have a little savior complex.”

Eugene didn't quite know if Snafu was being serious or if he was being mocked. His faith was important to him. Wanting to help other people didn't make him a bad person. And he really liked to believe that his church wasn't as… hypocritical as some. The church he went to was _open_. Sure, there still were topics they wouldn’t touch on, but that also meant that the priest never gave a sermon against certain topics. Everybody was welcome, was able to socialize. When they held a charity event it wasn't just for show. 

“I just wanted to help you”, he said.

“And why would you do that, church boy?”

Now Snafu’s voice definitely had some kind of edge to it. It was almost too dark to see and he stood a few steps away, but Eugene was pretty sure that Snafu's was glaring at him, challengingly. 

But Eugene didn’t take the bait. This wasn't a fighting matter and he had been the one who brought Sanfu here and not out of completely selfless reasons either. He was the one who didn’t want to be alone, so he pushed the irritation towards Snafu's statement aside and instead said: “I have a name, you know? You don't need to call me 'boy' all the time. I'm hardly a boy anymore...”

Snafu's features softened, he even was casting his eyes down. He looked almost a bit shy as he was standing there, heavily loaded with all his belongings. In a strange neighborhood with a strange man. Eugene realized that he could be a threat to Snafu just as the other one could be a threat to him. They didn't knew each other. Following a stranger home could always end badly for either side. Still, Eugene made his decision and he wasn't afraid of the other man.

“My name is Eugene”, he offered and smiled at Snafu as he looked back up again. “I'd really like to have you over tonight, but if you don't want to I'll understand that.”

He saw the muscles in Snafu's jaw clench until he nodded and made a step forward. “I could really use a place to crush at.”

Eugene smiled once more. “Then be my guest.” 

*

Eugene scrambled something to eat together as Snafu took a shower. It had been ages since another person was with him in his apartment. His brother had visited him once, apparently decided that this was no way to live and never visited again. He was invited to their home, for Christmas, but only in theory. Edward always called a week prior, telling him how stressed they were and how full the house got with his wives family and that he knew that the train ride would be horrible for Eugene. 

"Do you really want to suffer through all of this?”, he asked his little brother year after year. 

And Eugene always answered: “Probably not. Maybe next year.” 

When in reality he would have walked, crawled to Mobile to see his family again, to be with other people again. But it wasn't him who had to decide that, so he stayed on his own. 

He had tried to bring some other people back with him. In a neighborhood like his, there were quite a few acquaintances available, but they never made him feel good, just more lonely, so he stopped trying after a couple of them.

He almost felt a bit overwhelmed when he heard the shower while he stood in the kitchen, frying some eggs and mashing the potatoes, even more so when he heard Snafu lowly sing over the sound of the rushing water. He pressed his wrist to the corner of his eye to stop himself from shedding a tear. That was absolutely ridiculous. Snafu was a man in need who trusted him enough to step inside his tiny apartment, he wasn't going to cure Eugene's loneliness in any way. The following morning he would leave and perhaps they'd see each other again at the train station. That was all that was to it. 

Snafu emerged from the bathroom with a cloud of hot steam around him. 

“That was great!”, he announced. “I usually shower in the staffs bathroom at the hospital. They let some of us in once every week. But it's nothing compared to a hot shower in privacy…”

Eugene looked over his shoulder. Snafu was wearing some of his clothes, his own hang over the radiator to dry. Luckily they had the same size of clothing, more or less, the sleeves may be a bit long and Snafu’s waist was definitely narrower than Eugene's but it would be fine for one night. 

He tapped over to Eugene, to peer over his shoulder, while ruffling through his hair with a towel. He stopped so close behind Eugene that he felt the heat of his body, the dampness of his hair, smelled his own soap on the other man. He rushed to stove to bring some distance between them. 

“I'm glad you enjoyed it”, he said truthfully. It really made him happy to see Snafu that contently. He brought so many people joy with his music, brought a bit of liveliness and art into the streets, like that evening when everybody at that platform was at their lowest. He deserved something in return, more than spare change. 

“It's really generous of you…”, Sanfu said a little sheepishly and motioned with his hand. “All of this.”

Eugene turned around to smile warmly at him. “It's my pleasure.” 

*

They sat down at Eugene's small kitchen table to eat, the radio was softly playing in the background, they hosted an Oldies-Soul-Night. 

Snafu had held himself back when they had started to eat. Taking only one fried egg and one spoon of mashed potatoes, making Eugene think the food was even more bland than it looked. Turned out he just tried to be polite. 

After Eugene had urged him to eat as much as he wanted, he ended up frying two more eggs to satisfy his guest. Eugene didn't mind, in fact he was pretty happy with having company, being able to talk to someone and even share a laugh if Snafu wasn't too occupied with chewing.

Snafu's humor was crude and more than once Eugene flinched a little because of the words he used, thoughts darting back to his childhood when he would have been punished for taking the Lord's name in vain like Snafu so casually did. He had the notion that, just like himself, Snafu didn’t get the chance to talk so openly to people all that often. Eugene felt like he already knew more about him than most people in New Orleans did, certainly more than that news article. 

“Is it true, that you named your guitar Lilette?”, he asked him. He thought that it was kind of endearing to give your instrument a name. He liked the thought that Snafu picked such a pretty one for his guitar.

The musician looked up from his plate, where he picked up the last of his egg yolk with his fork. “Yes.”

“Why?”, Eugene asked, trying to coax him out of his shell.

Snafu left his fork aside and shot Eugene a glance across the table. “That’s between me and her”, he shut him down. Eugene tensed under his eyes, as big as they were and as much as Eugene kept staring into them, it was hard to read them. Maybe he just thought he saw something sad in them, before he had looked away. Maybe the look of hurt in them was just annoyance with Eugene’s questions.

Either way, he didn’t want to let the mood dip, so he grabbed his plate and asked: “Dessert?”

*

He wasn’t really a sweet tooth, but he wanted to provide Snafu with the whole experience of having dinner at a Sledge household and that meant dessert after the meal. His mother would for sure not have used powder for her pudding, like he did, but he was a bachelor, not a southern housewife and Snafu seemed really excited with the idea, lightening up again, powder or self-made.

“I have something to go along with that....” he heard Snafu mumble, while he began to stir the milk and powder together. When he turned to look at him, he saw him crouching in front of his seabag, rummaging through it. It was full to the brim with all kinds of stuff. He made out various combs, pieces of paper, at least two books, but most of the space was taken up by food cans of all sorts. 

With a small _Aha!_ Sanfu drew one of the cans out, holding it out to Eugene. “Peaches. They go wonderfully with vanilla pudding.”

Eugene smiled. It must have taken ages for Snafu to get all these cans, to make the money to buy them and now he wanted to share one of them with him. 

“Sounds great”, he said and Snafu joined him by the counter. 

It felt so domestic, standing this close together in his kitchen, their elbows almost touching, the radio still playing it’s tunes. Eugene scolded his own heart mentally for picking up its speed. Snafu was still just someone who needed his help this evening, he wasn't his friend or… more than that. 

He snapped out of his thoughts as Snafu let the blade of his pocket knife snap out, ready to cut the lit of the can open with it.

“Holy mother of-”, Eugene bit his tongue. “Snafu, you're going to cut your hand open!” 

The other man just smirked at him, which made Eugene almost grab his hand to stop him from cutting the lid further open without even looking at it. 

“I won't”, he just said cockily and with that the lid sprang open. 

“I have a can opener, you know?”, Eugene said with a straight face not giving him the satisfaction of acting impressed. 

Snafu shrugged with a crooked grin. “Trade ya?”, he asked and offered Eugene the can, reaching for the bowl Eugene was holding with the finished pudding shaped mixture. Eugene gave him a disapproving look, before he traded the dishes with him and poured the peaches into a glass bowl. His tableware fancier than the food he served.

It tasted amazing either way. They both hummed as they ate the first spoon full of the sweet dessert and didn't say a single word until each of them finished their third portion. 

Eugene liked his finger clean after scooping some of the pudding out of the bowl, feeling satisfied, with the meal he got to share with Snafu, who was currently singing along to the radio, until the song switched.

“Oh fuck”, he said and held up his index finger. “I love this song!”

Eugene followed him with his eyes, as he got up from his chair, kind of amused with that child-liked enthusiasm. Snafu turned the volume up and - to Eugene's biggest surprise - started dancing. Or maybe not dancing, but he followed the rhythm of the song with his body, swaying from side to side with his eyes closed and arms moving through the air. 

He kept staring at the scene in front of him, mesmerized with the picture. It seemed so freeing the way Snafu just let himself be carried away by the tune in the middle of Eugene’s living room-kitchen-dining area, without being self conscious. A soft chuckle escaped Eugene’s lips.

Snafu opened his eyes, smiling himself. “Come join me, Cher.”

“Oh no!”, Eugene said and waved his hand dismissively. That little “Cher” which Snafu liked to use already made him feel light-headed. In no way would he be able to _dance_ with him. 

“You’re leaving me hanging?”, Snafu gasped, causing Eugene to laugh.

“I can’t dance!”, he confessed, if it wasn’t already clear to Snafu.

It wasn’t even a lie, during dance school the teacher had told him that he had no sense of rhythm whatsoever. She made him dance with her in front of the whole class, to show him what he did wrong, scolding him, whenever he stepped on her toes. It had been one of the most terrific moments of his life.

“I’ll teach you. We’re starting slow”, Snafu said and held out his hand to him.

Eugene felt so stupid, not because of the prospect of dancing with Snafu, but because he was so afraid over it. Why couldn’t he just let loose for one second? He should just get up, leave his fears behind him, like he did that day when he left Mobile and came here.

Not every decision needed to be overthought. Sometimes it was better to be spontaneous and so he took Snafu’s hand, which was broad and warm and which pulled him to his feet. They bumped against each other, chest against chest as they both chuckled.

“What now?”, Eugene asked, sheepishly, somewhat insecure still. Looking down between them, instead of in Snafu’s eyes.

“We start movin’”, Snafu said and placed his hands over Eugene’s hips.

Eugene’s whole body was lit on fire with the touch. He felt how the little hairs on his arms and even his face stood up. His skin prickled and he had to close his eyes to somehow tame his feelings. 

Snafu didn’t say anything, he just started to sway them from side to side, slowly spinning them around themselves. If Eugene got dizzy, he wouldn’t know if it was because of the circling motion, or because of the feeling of the other man being so close to him. 

He placed his hands on Snafu’s shoulders, to avoid to leave them dangling awkwardly by his sides and with that he finally gathered the courage to raise his eyes and look at Snafu. There was still some room between them, Eugene’s dancing teacher wouldn’t have scolded them for being indecently close.

Snafu's face was completely calm, the ceiling light threw a few shadows over his face, shifting with every move, the one of a curl dancing on his forehead. His hair was still a little damp, Eugene imagined what it would feel like to run his fingers through those thick strands, they made him look so vital.

A smile played at the musicians lips, the shadow over his perfectly shaped cupid’s bow stretching with it. He obviously noticed Eugene’s gaze gliding over him. It seemed to Eugene, as if Snafu took everything in, as if he was able to see the very core of things, of whatever he looked at. When he lay his eyes on someone he made the other person feel seen. And it’s been so long since someone had not only looked at Eugene, but did see him.

“I knew you’d be a quick learner”, he said.

Eugene couldn’t help himself but giggle, glad that he had allowed himself to be dragged to his feet. Snafu was so sweet, so gentle, it made his heart swell and his eyes darting down again. Focusing them past Snafu’s cheeky smile.

He was only a few inches taller than Snafu, but those made him the perfect size to rest his head on his shoulder. He just had to move his hands, letting them slide over Snafu’s upper back, to join and rest between his shoulder blades, so he could bed his head by the crook of the other man’s neck. It would be alright in the safety of his own four walls.

Those same four walls he had dreaded to come home to, a few hours ago. He had hurried himself to get out of the rain, only to arrive at his cold and lonely apartment. Sitting at his kitchen table, staring outside the window, watching the drizzle. The only voice he’d hear is own.

And now Snafu was with him, slowly swaying him from side to side, humming along to the tune. It was so surreal, that Eugene asked himself if he had been struck by a lightning on his way home and was actually dead. If he was, than this would be heaven.

He tilted his head towards Snafu, moving his hands, just like he had thought he’d do, until he felt Snafu’s warm skin against his forehead, his nose pressing against his shoulder, taking in his scent. Eugene’s soap, but also Snafu’s very own note. He smelled ethereal, he smelled so much like comfort and something Eugene would want to return to. What if Snafu just stayed? What if Eugene could actually come home to him?

“Eugene? Gene?”

Snafu nudged at him, trying to pull him away from him, but Eugene just clenched his fists into Snafu’s shirt, feeling his tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry”, he choked out and pressed even closer to Snafu.

“It’s okay”, Snafu murmured. He moved one of his hands to Eugene’s back, rubbing it, causing a sob to escape from Eugene’s lips.

He screwed his eyes shut, embarrassed, but not able to do anything about it, when Snafu’s other hand cupped the back of his head, stroking his hair.

*

They had moved to the sofa. Snafu had to back Eugene slowly in it’s direction before he managed to sit them both down. Eugene had let go of him then, burying his head in his hands, feeling like the biggest fool between the pacific and the atlantic ocean.

A grown up man crying in the arms of a stranger, it was so damn shameful. Made him want to jump out of the window in embarrassment. The nasty thought struck his mind, that he wasn’t allowed feel this way, because he had everything. A job, an apartment, a fridge full of food. But it was cruel to think, that Snafu had nothing. He had so much Eugene envied him for. His confidence, his talent, his wit, the ability to make Eugene crave him, crave his very being.

“I get sad too, you know?”, Snafu said, unaware of what went through Eugene’s mind. “No shame in that”

Eugene sniffled his nose, slowly preying his hands from his eyes. He knew he still looked like he had cried, he could still feel the heat on his cheeks. It stunned him how easily and selflessly Snafu was ready to comfort him, relate to him, to make him feel better.

“She’s my only friend.”

Eugene risked a glance at Snafu and saw him tilting his head towards the front door where his seabag and guitar case were laying. He looked back at Snafu and found him smiling, but at the same time he looked sad. His eyes incredibly deep, like a portal, reaching far back into his past.

“I named her after my mother”, he said and the corner’s of his mouth perked up. His face showing, that the memories of her were fond, but also tainted. “I sometimes talk to her, when I’m lonely. She always listens.”

Eugene’s eyes started to swim as soon as the first tear landed on Snafu’s cheek, hurrying down his face, before it disappeared into his beard. The second one was caught by Eugene. Who had reached out quickly enough to brush it away with his thumb, his hand cupping Snafu’s cheek. 

The rope between them, that melody like bond which had formed outside of Eugene’s apartment, was singing between them, like the string of a harp, a high, clear sound. Something pure about it.

Eugene felt it pulling on him, pulling him towards Snafu and after all that had happened between them, Snafu playing that song for him, the both of them dancing, the crying in front of each other, it only felt natural to give in.

They leaned into each other at the same time, their lips connecting. Eugene could burst into tears again, feeling a whole orchestra perform inside his chest. A big drum imitating his banging heartbeat, a whistling flute his twitchy nerves and the bittersweet sound of violins capturing the intense feelings he experienced.

It felt so good, Snafu’s plump lips moving against his own. As soon as the other man parted his lips, only so, to catch one of Eugene’s between them, when he felt the heat of Snafu’s halfway open lips, he was melting completely. 

He scooted closer towards Snafu, to make the kissing easier. Opening his mouth, letting him in, letting himself experience the divine feeling of their tongues tangling together, like that melody did between them.

His hand was still by Snafu’s cheek, he moved it to his nape, where the longer strands of his hair curled. Snafu’s hand rested against his neck, his rough fingertips stroking the skin there, like he would do with the strings of his guitar, causing shiver after shiver running down Eugene’s spine.

There was no denying it, Eugene began to feel aroused. It was no wonder, that it happened so quickly, after all, the last time had been ages ago, but it also depended heavily on Snafu, his sweet tongue, which embraced him in just the right way, one of his big hands over his hip bone, the air around him, so familial, so captivating.

Eugene decided to be brave and moved his hands to Snafu’s shirt, tugging at the neckline. The other man broke the kiss to look at him, his lips had turned a little darker from the kissing, looking even more appealing. Eugene almost let go of his shirt to catch his lips again, before Snafu leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head.

He revealed his nicely defined shoulders, his biceps, his delicate collarbone. He was skinny, but he still looked healthy. His skin glowing even under Eugene’s dim ceiling lamp, it looked smooth overall, save for the scar tissue which was scattered a couple of shades lighter than the rest of his skin tone over the left side of his body. A bigger, round one by his shoulder, a few smaller ones all over his torso.

Eugene furrowed his brows as he took them in. 

“What happened?”, he asked without thinking about it, considering if it’d be rude.

“War”, Snafu answered.

“Which one?”

Snafu snorted. “Does it matter?”

It didn’t. It didn’t matter like the men didn’t matter who were sent to war. Their existence was only acknowledged when it was beneficial, either for the politicians and their minions, or the people when they wanted to feel patriotic, when the victories of those men became their own. 

The rest of the time, they were the “boys overseas”, far away and out of the public eye. Most of the time people were afraid to even think about what those _boys_ had to see _over there_ , what they had to do, to bring them those victories.

Eugene couldn’t image what Snafu had seen, or done. But he knew men who were haunted so badly, that they weren’t able to return to their civilian life. Maybe Snafu came back from the battlefield and found nothing, no place to stay, no people to care for him, no peace of mind.

Maybe he was as lonely as Eugene was.

The redhead reached his hand out to him, looking at Snafu to see if he was allowed to touch him. Snafu followed his movement with his eyes, but didn’t flinch away. Eugene brushed his fingers over the scar on his shoulder. He never touched a scar which stood out like that. It looked like a nasty cutting wound, which was poorly stitched up. 

“A bullet”, Snafu said and Eugene looked back up at him. His face was vacant, controlled. “One of my comrades cut the wound open to get it out. They patched me up right on the field. Twinges when it rains.”

Eugene’s eyes darted to the windows, but they showed him nothing more than the reflection of his own apartment, the night too dark to see anything outside. Made him think, that Snafu and him were the only ones currently existing in this world. The only hint of a world beyond his apartment was the slight pattering of the rain, he could still hear over the sound of the radio. Another Soul singer, pouring his heart out, emphasizing the atmosphere between them.

Eugene moved his hand down, letting his fingers dance over the smaller, more dispersed ones. Snafu huffed a laugh and twitched away from Eugene’s touch, as his fingers ghosted over his ribs. He was ticklish. 

“Granate”, he explained, trying to hold the grin in place, Eugene’s fingers had caused. “I just caught some shrapnel's.”

Eugene hummed, sympathetically. Feeling Snafu’s skin, the warmth of his body, the engraved memories. It meant a lot to him that he was allowed to touch him like this, but what meant the most to him was, that Snafu told him all this. That he trusted him with pieces of himself. Little shrapnel's of Snafu pierced through Eugene’s heart, scarring him in the best way possible.

He moved his hand away from Snafu and to his own shirt, undoing the first button, glancing back to the other man. Snafu's eyes appeared once more as if they took him in, like he would consume him. Just eat him up, so they would become the same. Two tunes mixed into one. He opened another button, and then another one and then he yanked the shirt off of his body and they crushed against each other.

Heaving chests pressed against each other, their hands clutching at their backs, their waists, mouths hot and open. Kissing lips, kissing skin, leaving marks.

*

They lay completely blissed-out on Eugene’s bed. Snafu was allowed to smoke in his room, after they had came down from their climax. He had offered Eugene one his cigarettes, but he had declined. 

He still tried to catch his breath, bringing his humming heart back under control after Snafu made him pant and toss and turn in the sheets. Made him screw his eyes shut, causing white flashes flicker before his eyelids, whenever he brushed over that spot inside him. Made him gasp out his name. 

At first he had felt self conscious, lying on his back, with his feet on the mattress and his knees in the air. As Snafu’s eyes wandered over his naked body. But the other man had just kissed him and caressed him, his hair, his face, his thighs until Eugene simply couldn’t contain himself any longer and let his legs fall to the side, so that Snafu could slip in between them. He had leaned himself over Eugene, hands on either side of his head and had ground against him. Drawing a shameful moan from the redhead. He had kissed him some more after that, before his mouth had wandered down.

Eugene turned his head and buried it against Snafu’s side, as the other smoked. Overwhelmed even with the sheer memory of the feeling of Snafu’s lips around his cock. How he had breathed kiss after kiss on him, until he had took him inside his mouth, his tongue pressing humidly against his shaft and then he had started moving and Eugene had clenched his fist into his sheets so intensely, that his fingers ached.

“Everything alright, Cher?”, Snafu asked him, as he pulled an arm around Eugene, nudging him against his side.

“Mhm”, Eugene made, not capable of much more.

After he had sucked him off for a while he had returned to Eugene’s lips, whispering in his ear how amazing he tasted, which made Eugene’s cheek burn, but also made his cock twitch.

“It’s just…” Eugene mumbled, dragging his words out with some effort. “It felt so good.”

He had prepped him for what had felt like an eternity. He had laid on his side Eugene’ back pressed to his chest. His hand between Eugene’s obscenely wide spread legs, pushing his calloused fingers inside him, which were just on the right side of being a little rough against Eugene’s sensitive insides.

Eugene had just panted, mouth dry, too fucking gone, to even think about touching himself. All he could focus on were Snafu’s lips by his ear and his hand by his hair and his fingers opening him up with so much care. And he had moaned. Had moaned Snafu’s name over and over again until he told him to finally fuck him.

“It did”, Snafu responded and laughed. Eugene could feel it rolling out of him. Honestly and affectionately. 

When Snafu had buried himself inside him, Eugene felt like their bodies turned into one epic composition, like they were the instruments which made the melody between them sing. Eugene’s head had rested on Snafu’s biceps. His hand clutched at Snafu’s other arm, which he had snaked under Eugene’s, his hand pressed to his chest, to hold him in place while he was pushing inside him, with deep, steady thrusts. Eugene felt so incredibly taken over by the other man, felt like he could let all his worries fall from his mind, that he just let his head roll back and let himself experience the remarkable feeling of Snafu in him and around him.

“I’m tired…” Eugene said quietly.

“Then take a shut-eye, I’ll cover the first watch”, Snafu drawled and let his smoke fall into the cup of water on Eugene’s bedside table, like Eugene told him to do, once he was finished.

The redhead chuckled softly, but then his smile withered from his face. Falling asleep meant waking up in the morning, meant that their limited time would be used up. They had talked for a long time, had made love for even longer. The shadows in his room began to grow, the sun was already creeping up, heralding a new day.

A better day, for most people. The storm should have moved on by now. The sky would be clear, the streets would be cleaned. Everything would be returned to the state before the storm had fallen onto the town.

Eugene’s life would return to the state before Snafu had fallen onto him.

“What will happen in the morning?”, he asked and trusted that Snafu would know what he meant with that question.

The musician didn’t answer, not right away and Eugene could hear violins striking up a furious tune, shrilling in his ears. If he’d leave, he would take the music with him and Eugene would be surrounded by silence again. He couldn’t continue to live like that, it drove him insane. The lack of contact drove them both insane. It had to be like that. Snafu had to feel the same. He had told him, that he was lonely too. His guitar his only friend. Why couldn’t they be there for each other? Calming each other with that melody that played between them.

“Breakfast would be nice.”

Eugene blinked his eyes, thinking he had just imagined what Snafu had said. How he said it. Casually, like it was self explanatory to him. Just with that he had extended their time, let their song continue. 

Eugene got up on one arm, to look into Snafu’s all-seeing eyes, wanted to see their future inside them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments and feedback are always greatly appreciated!  
> It might take me a little while to get back to them though, uni work is _still_ kicking my ass ;( that's why I'm posting this in the middle of the night.
> 
> Title is a line from the song "When It Rains" by The Real People.


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